Ashley Hawkes

Rookie (12.11.83 / Hawera, Taranaki, New Zealand)

Leviathan Lane. - Poem by Ashley Hawkes

On Leviathan Lane by the old water tank,
there lived a woman, a girl and her father who drank.

The birds don't call on Leviathan Lane
and the wind in the branches whispers your name.

The house at the end is empty and cold,
on the market for years but it's never been sold.

If you're walking home about twelve O’clock,
just walk right on by, don't be tempted to stop.

The girl in the window sits and stares,
as pale as ice, she twists her hair

O there once was a murder on Leviathan Lane,
the people there were never the same.

On Leviathan Lane by the old water tank,
the girl in the window with the father who drank,
she sings to the birds but they never sing back
and she twists her hair into bundles of black.

Don't ever go down to Leviathan Lane,
You might not return and you won't be the same.

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Comments about Leviathan Lane. by Ashley Hawkes

  • (3/27/2006 9:51:00 PM)

    I am scared! ! ! ! ! hehehe... Please don't send me down Leviathan lane! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 27, 2006

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